


Unexpected Visitors

by DemonDean10



Series: The Saga of John and Brian [8]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fights, Fluff, I don't like Alfred Lennon, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 14:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18802165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: In a cold 1964 morning, Alfred Lennon decided to saunter back into his son's life.





	Unexpected Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> C8
> 
>  
> 
> I don't like Alf Lennon. I'm not saying this is how the meeting went down but...here it is.

**1964**

 

John as hanging out with George and Ringo when the call arrived. Cynthia popped her head into the music room and said, “It’s Brian.”

 

John’s heart leaped and he hurried to go and pick up the phone out in the hall, “Hello, Eppy.” He looked around to see if anyone was in hearing range, no.

 

Brian sounded slightly tense, “John, hi.”

 

John frowned, “Is this about tonight? You  _ can _ make it, can’t you?” They had planned to go dinner in a wonderful restaurant that had promised them a closed room just for the two of them. 

 

Brian sighed over the phone, “No, I can. It’s something else...there’s someone here at the office to see you.”

 

John hummed, “Who?”

 

“I think it’s best if you just come.” Brian told him. 

 

John groaned but nodded, “Alright, then. Be right there.”

 

“Thank you, doll. I love you.”

 

“Love ya too, Eppy.”

 

* * *

 

John arrived to the office with George and Ringo on tow, all three of them upset at having to do something today instead of relaxing. They got to the little waiting room outside of Brian’s office, with the man himself waiting there. 

 

“John!” Exclaimed Brian, looking nervous. “You’re here.”

 

John grinned, “I’m here, now who is it?”

 

Ringo spoke up, “Is it a reporter?”

 

Brian looked at the drummer and guitarist, “I think it’s best if you wait out here.”

 

George frowned, “Why?”

 

Their manager sighed, “This visitor just came to see John. It’s something personal.”

 

John let himself be dragged away, “Brian, what’s going on?”

 

Instead of answering, Brian just opened the door to his office. There was a large man sitting there in an old suit and thinning hair. 

 

John entered the room, “Who’s this?” He asked as Brian went to sit in his deskchair. 

 

The man stood up and turned around, causing the singer to gasp. 

 

Brian looked at the man with cool eyes, “John, this is Alfred Lennon.”

 

The man grinned, teeth crooked, “Hello, son.” His tone was somewhat warm. 

 

John felt like he was about to faint, “Wh-hat?”

 

Alfred stepped closer, “You’re tellin’ me you don’t recognize your own father, boy?”

 

Brian spoke up, “Mister...Lennon arrived here today looking for you.”

 

John leaned against one of the leather chairs, clutching his hands behind his back. “ _ Why _ ? After seventeen years, why the hell are you here?”

 

His father’s eyes turne cold, “That’s no way to talk to your father.”

 

John scoffed, “You’re not my father. I don’t know you.” Then he saw a tiny mousy looking man writing in a notepad in the background, “What’s going on?”

 

Alfred smiled, “This is Dave.”

 

Brian gritted his teeth, “Journalist.” 

 

John furrowed his brows, “Why-?”

 

“I’m trying to reconnect here, son.” Interrupted Alfred.

 

John laughed, “And the journalist helps, does he?”

 

Alfred sat down again, “Well, I’ve got a record in the works-”

  
  


John felt his heart break, “Oh my god…” He whispered. Alfred Lennon hadn’t come back to see his son John, he’d come back for famous Beatle John. 

 

Alfred took no notice of his son’s distress, “and word of my reuniting with my Beatle son would help.” He offered a smirk which was supposed to be friendly but came out as cruel, “You wanna help your daddy, don’t ya?”

 

John was just gaping at him. 

 

Alfred’s eyes turned slightly sad, “That’s what you used to call me. Before that aunt of yours stole you from me?”

 

John shook his head, “What are you talking about?”

 

Alfred laughed at his baffled expression, “Oh, didn’t she tell you? I came for you when you were a kid.” He shrugged, :I was going to take you to New Zealand with me, father and son.” He sighed, “But Julia and her damn sister showed, we argued…”

 

John had sat down by now, getting plummeted by all the information. His father had come for him?

 

Alfred knew he had him. “Don’t ya remember, boy? We asked you who you wanted to be with. And you said ‘Daddy.’” He pointed at his son, “You chose  _ me _ .”

 

John was clutching his head, “I, I don’t-”  _ remember _ .

 

But Alfred kept going, “And your mother walked away! She  _ left _ you.”

 

John let out a hoarse, “No.”

 

Brian was scared at the sight of tears in his lover’s eyes. “John-”

 

Alfred ignored them both, “But then your aunt had to step in.” He scoffed, “She grabbed you and hid you away. I had no choice but to leave.”

 

There was a tense silence. John was shaking in his seat. 

 

Alfred leaned back, “Ask your mother if you don’t believe me.”

 

John’s eyes snapped up, “Julia is dead.”

 

“Oh.” The older man dared to then laugh, “Well, I’m not surprised. That bitch always was-”

 

John shot up and glared, “Don’t talk about her!”

 

Alfred stared at him amusedly, “I knew her better than you, boy. Believe me, she’s no saint.”

 

No one knew that better than John Lennon. He turned away, “Get the hell out.” He muttered.

 

Alfred stood up, “Now-”

 

John turned around in a flash and launched a flower vase at him, “GET OUT!” Then he turned to Dave, the nosy reporter, “You too!”

 

Alfred stepped close, invading his son’s personal space. “You remind me of her,” He pointed mockingly at his forehead, “She was fucked up too.”

 

John went to hit him but Brian appeared and held him back.

 

Brian glared, “Leave.  _ Now _ .”

 

Alfred scoffed but did as told, taking his mousy friend with him. He passed by a relaxing George and Ringo, who stared curiously at him. 

 

An angry, “And don’t come back!” from John followed the strange man, prompting the two of them to stand and hurry to see what was wrong.

 

In the office, John was shaking and having trouble breathing. He felt lightheaded and hot. Without really noticing, he fell to the floor. 

 

Brian sat him against his desk and hurried to grab the extra inhaler John had left him. It wasn’t the first time one of John’s panic attacks because an asthma attack too. 

 

John was hugging his knees close to his chest, desperately trying to take in deep worths. 

 

Ringo and George burst in just as Brian was giving the inhaler to John, the leader of the band shoving it in his mouth immediately. 

 

Ringo knelt down beside him, “What happened?”

 

Brian sighed quietly, “Alfred Lennon.”

 

George frowned down at them, “Wait, as in-”

 

John took out the inhaler and let out a shivering breath, “My father.”

 

* * *

 

John and Brian were in a limousine on their way to dinner. Ringo and George had gone home after trying to cheer up John and only getting a weak chuckle in return. The singer was now resting his head in Brian’s thigh, legs curled up across the seats. Eppy was brushing his hair. 

 

They arrived at the restaurant through the garage and a kind looking waiter led them to their room. It had a large chandelier and a single clothed table beneath it. 

 

They sat down and, seeing John was spaced out, Brian ordered wine and paella for the both of them. He shivered slightly, “A bit chilly, no?”

 

There was no answer. 

 

Looking at John with concern, Brian cleared his throat. 

 

Finally, his lover spoke up. Without looking up from his silverare, John asked, “Do you think he was telling the truth? My father.”

 

“I don’t know, doll.” Said Brian softly. 

 

John sniffed, “I mean, I always knew my mother left me. Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But I don’t know...I guess I always wanted to believe she didn’t really ‘walk away.’ That she didn’t have a choice.” He laughed at himself, “I was so stupid.”

 

Brian reached out take his hand, “Don’t hate your mother, Johnny. Keep her memory as you had it, don’t let that man ruin that.”

 

John put his head in his free hand, “He’s only back for the fame.” His tone was broken, “He doesn’t really want me...he never did.” No matter what the man said.

 

“Then he is a fool.” Brian was quick to answer. He lifted John’s face with his other hand, “I want you. I always will.” He kissed the hand he was holding. 

 

In return, John gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

 

Brian shook his head, “Don’t thank me for this, John. I could do nothing else.”

 

* * *

 

That night as they got to Brian’s house and got ready for bed, Brian thought about how he was going to handle Alfred. He’d have to get that Dave and pay him off, maybe offer him some other information. He knew that having this inthe papers wouldn’t help John or the band, it would only make more people question John about his father. (and mother)

 

Brian laid down and opened his arms, John happily burrowing in them. 

 

The singer curled up and rested his head in Brian’s chest, needing to feel his comfort. “I love you.” He whispered. 

 

Brian held him close, “I love you too, doll. Don’t think about Alfred, I’ll deal with him.” And he pressed a warm kiss in John’s forehead. 

 

John closed his eyes, trusting his lover. He always would.

 


End file.
